


Take a Walk on the Dead Side

by TheWalkingDebt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chuck Ships It, Dean Angst, Death, Death being Death, F/M, Love Confession, Sam is an interrupting moose, Swearing, Torture, Wasn't sure how graphic graphic violence meant, emotional Dean whump, from demons, i guess, not PG language, so I tagged it just to be safe, so fun, to you, you'll be fine though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDebt/pseuds/TheWalkingDebt
Summary: You know that one day, something will use your feelings for Dean against you, and when they do… well, you’ll make it too late for them. You’d stay away if you only could, but it’s impossible when he’s the flame to your moth. Besides, it’s not as if Dean will notice your death, not beyond anyone else’s, not if it keeps Sam safe. Your death will at least keep him alive, if nothing else.





	Take a Walk on the Dead Side

“Ah, so this is the little Winchester pet,” the knife blade teased the sensitive skin of my throat, the demon eyes burning into my soul. “Not so big and bad as them, though, I’ll wager.” His hand, grimy and blood-covered, tipped my chin back as an inhuman hiss slid from his teeth and lips.  
  
“Get your filthy hands the fuck off me,” I spat, dragging in a ragged breath as evenly as I possibly could, eyes darting down helplessly to the metal threatening to tear my life away.  
  
“Don’t worry,” the demon crooned, twisting the tip of the knife in intricate circles just over where he could find my heartbeat. If it lasted long enough to be found. “This will end very soon… Once your partners show up, it will all be over.”  
  
“They’re not going to show up,” I hissed, very sure of that. “They’re not so stupid.” I’d make sure they had no reason to show up. After all, they surely knew there was no sense risking their skins for a dead woman.  
  
I had been going over this very carefully in my mind. There were too many demons waiting around, grinning evilly, just waiting for Dean and Sam to burst in to save the day as usual. There were more than they could handle, more than even Castiel would be able to fight in his weakened state, and I refused to be responsible for their deaths. They were much more important than I could ever hope to be, and if there was another apocalypse, they would be the only ones capable of handling it.  
  
It wasn’t really a question. Who was more useful to the world? Who deserved life more?  
  
Besides, I could never be responsible for the oldest Winchester’s demise, never see those green eyes dim in my lifetime.  
  
I would end this first.  
  
“And you know why they’re not going to show up?” I pressed on, wondering how exactly I could get them so mad they’d go blind in their rage and just kill me to shut me up. “Because you’re the stupid ones here. You think the guys that managed to shoo your cry-baby king Lucifer back into his animal crate could possibly be taken down by a couple of clumsy idiots like you?”  
  
His eyes flashed dark at me, teeth snapping, “Don’t you dare speak of our king in that way!” he snarled, and I knew I hit a sensitive point.  
  
“Oh c’mon,” I rolled my eyes, sneering. “He was weak. Weak and human, really, I mean c’mon. Sam beat him with the power of love. If that’s not pathetic I don’t know what is. He’s not exactly the king of evil, is he? More like a care bear…”  
  
“Shut up, whore!” he backhanded me, and I spat out blood, grinning even as my heart raced. Hopefully this would work… “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”  
  
“And now you’re run by a business man,” I snorted, slowly turning my face back to him. “One that, I might add, is no stronger than a regular demon, but he can still have you killed so easily. Well now, doesn’t that say something about rulers of hell? Luci was just a puffed up marshmallow, a failure of a leader and a sucky boss.”  
  
“Bitch!” one of the nearby demons exclaimed in a harsh growl. “Hold your tongue!”  
  
“I won’t!” I yelled back. “Lucifer was a piss-ant useless little bitch with no more power than a deep-fried Twinkie!” This time, the strike was lower down and broke ribs, and I gasped in agony. Well, my end might not come neatly, but at least it was closer than ever now.   
  
“Can’t even kill two measly hunters,” I rasped, spitting out a gob of crimson, much to the stabbing burns slicing through my innards. “How evil is that?” With a heavy, wet thwack, my head was slammed against the floor, stars swinging in my vision, and I laughed out loud, a giggling, hysterical mess. “Lucy, I’m home!” I sang, half-unconscious when the last blow came, and then darkness.  
  
I opened my eyes to a sort of nothing-empty pain. My body didn’t hurt, but it felt the echo of wounds that should be killing me. A groan split my lips as I sat up, and the pain faded from my upper body.  
  
What happened?  
  
“You stupid sunnuvabitch!” I heard Dean’s yelling, and my heart thudded in my chest. Dammit, he wasn’t supposed to be here! Why was he here?! “Where is she?! Tell me, dammit!”   
  
Standing, I wobbled to stand on my feet, wearily making my way to Dean, and I found him, soaked in blood, shaking as he stood over the corpse of the demon that taunted me most. His eyes darted towards me, then through me as he ran past, back into the room I left.  
  
“Dean!” I called after him, confused. Where was Sam? Where were all the other demons? I followed Dean, and my heart stopped at the scene presented to me.  
  
Well, it seemed a small portion of my plan actually had worked.  
  
“No,” Dean’s voice choked, throttled in his chest, as he fell to his knees next to my body. Which still lay on the concrete. Surrounded by a thick pool of darkening blood. “No, c’mon, baby, please…” his hands, so usually rough and careless, lifted my head gently from the floor, tipping my face in his direction. Blood and bruises coated every facet of it, and despite it being mine, I could barely recognize it. But my lips had definitely gone blue, my skin grey and cold.  
  
I was dead.  
  
“You… you can’t…” To my horror, I watched tears flowing thickly down the older Winchester’s face, watched as he sobbed over my corpse. He couldn’t even speak, his words stuck in his swollen throat as he reeled with the knowledge of my death.  
  
Was this my hell? It sure felt like it, as my heart shredded with every pain-filled gasp Dean gave, clutching my bloody body to his, whispering nonsensical words and mumbling something that sounded almost like a prayer but couldn’t possibly be. Dean didn't pray. Not anymore, and hardly ever before.  
  
I went closer, legs shaky as I sat down next to him, wishing I could do something, say something…  
  
“So you see,” I jerked around at the sudden interruption, a slick and apathetic voice coming from behind me. I met the dark eyes of an older man with a timeless expression and gaunt face. His eyes dug into my soul and ripped me to pieces; in an odd way, he reminded me of an elderly British man - clever hands with long fingers, a neat suit, but stiff and stern. Taciturn was the best word for it. “Either way, the bacterium breaks.”   
  
He looked about the entire world, an almost contemptible grimace coating his features, but the look he gave Dean was something just threadbare of that. As if he found no time or love for anything in this world, and if he really must choose, well, it had to be Dean. For no reason other than morbid curiosity in how the hunter’s story ended.   
  
Even if it looked like he already knew.  
  
“E-Excuse me?” I blinked, confused and just short of terrified. He looked like… he gave the distinct resemblance of a god. “Who…”  
  
“Death,” he came closer, the cane in his hand swinging. It wasn’t there for use, rather, for show. “We’ve met.”  
  
“I’m sure,” I’ve come close to dying many times, most I don’t remember all too clearly.  
  
“When you were thirteen,” he stared down at my corpse, a tip to his head. I thought hard, confused. I hadn’t been anywhere close to death then… “Your mother.”  
  
Oh.  
  
I remembered the drag of the knife, the sudden release, the relief and guilt that followed.  
  
“I got over that,” I muttered, standing behind them all, feeling incapable of joining either hunter or Grim Reaper. “She wouldn’t have wanted…”  
  
“Yes, what a pity,” Death didn’t seem to care though as he interrupted you. Then he turned. “And I’m afraid this isn’t the time either.”  
  
I stared for a moment at him, “What…?”  
  
“If this was any other human, I would ask them to take a walk and we would leave,” he glared up at the ceiling, but I had a distinct feeling it was meant for someone else. This entire monologue, in fact. “In fact, I would have sent a lesser being than myself to do it. But no, You have to get Your hands on this one. Why is she so important to You?”  
  
As if he received an answer, he scowled, then looked back towards me with a tired, bored expression, “He is not an easy business partner.”  
  
I gaped, stunned, “W-wait, wait a fucking, ugh,” I glanced reflexively to the sky, “you just… talked to… to Him?”  
  
“Well let’s see if we can’t get even vaguer,” Death looked annoyed. “Yes, it was Him. As if there were any other…” He shook his head, holding out his hand. “He desires you alive, still. Apparently He has plans for you.”  
  
I swallowed, “P-plans…?”  
  
“I don’t think they’re quite as impossible as the ones He gave to Dean, if that's what concerns you. He's far more invested in you lot than I am,” Death sighed, sounding more bored with this situation than possible. “Can we hurry this fleeting moment? Believe it or not, I do have other tasks I’d prefer to lend myself to.”  
  
I hesitated only a brief second before reaching out…  
  
As if I hadn’t breathed in forever, a hard gasp ripped through my lungs, and I felt rather than made my eyes creak open. Green emeralds stared back, amazed and… wet?  
  
“Dean?” I whispered, confused. Why was he here? Was he crying? “What happened?”  
  
“You’re alive!” he looked so pale, so terrified, your name sliding out in a gusty murmur.  
  
“Yeah, ya idjit,” I grimaced, rubbing my sore scalp. What must have been dried blood crackled under my hand, but nothing more than a bump could’ve been back there. “Geez, what sucker got red stuff all over the place?” I stared at my hand, splotchy with brown and red, in distaste before wiping it off on Dean’s jacket playfully. I stopped when his eyes looked at me so terrified and so stunned. “What, Dean-o? Sorry I ruined your jack-!”  
  
His lips pressed to mine, hot and hard, crushing me in his grip. Astounded, I could barely think, let alone reply. Dean pulled off slowly, forehead pressed to mine as he squeezed his eyes shut, hands now on either side of my face.  
  
“I thought you were gone,” he sounded torn and confused, and close up, I could see the puffy redness to his eyelids and the silver tracks staining his cheeks. “I thought… how are you…?”  
  
“Dunno, Dean-o,” I surmised I had nearly died again, even if my last recollection was goading the demon holding me. “How’d you kill all the evil boy-scouts of Satan?” I wasn’t even going to touch that kiss. Death makes people do all sorts of crazy things, and if I thought about it too long, I’d interpret far too much from it. I couldn’t get my hopes in that way.  
  
“Kevin’s demon bombs helped,” he muttered, rubbing my shoulders and back with his large hands. “Sam made me wait for more hunters to join us. That’s why…” his voice broke. “You were dead, you were fucking dead…!”  
  
“Then how am I alive now?” I made a face, but he didn’t see, to register my speaking.  
  
“I don’t even fucking know how you got blood all over the fucking place, 'cuz I don’t see a fucking cut on you…!” he was getting hysterical, and I quieted him down with a hesitant hand on his shoulder.  
  
“It's fine, we’re fine,” I murmured, standing up on shaky feet. Something like déjà vu hit me swiftly, but I breathed through it. “Let’s go get Sam, and we can head back to the bunker for hot cocoa and hunter’s helper.” I smiled fondly, trying to reassure him without staring too long at his lips. That had touched my lips. I wasn’t sure why he kissed me, but I’d rather assume he was a supremely out of it at the time and be wrong than… build my hopes up otherwise.  
  
“Right,” he nodded, breathing in and out as if to calm himself, then he looked up at me, and I thought I saw him look uncertain. Maybe even sad. It quickly passed.  
  
Leading the way, I had barely looked through one room when Dean’s hand landed hard on my wrist, gripping it tight.  
  
“No,” his voice broke as he turned me around, and I stared at him, confused and… yes, hopeful. “I’m not… I can’t…” he swallowed, staring at the ground before dragging his eyes back up to me. “You were dead, and there was still… I haven’t told you some things I needed… I needed to say.”  
  
“Is now really…” I was terrified of what this meant, though, yet I was still scared something would end this moment too soon. I wanted the reassurance of home, or at least the Impala, to get me through something that sounded as earth-shattering as Dean made it.  
  
“Yes,” he ground your name out, looking wan but determined. “I…”  
  
“Dean! You found her!” Sam cheered, interrupting as I knew he – or something else – would. I rolled my eyes when Dean’s jaw clenched, and he spun around to glare at his little brother. “…Oh, whoops, sorry, dude.” But Sam only looked exasperated with him. “I’ll wait in Impala, then.” He turned on heel and headed back outside, taking two burly and quiet hunters along with him. Their eyes slid along me in confusion and distrust.  
  
Probably because I was soaked in blood without a single cut gracing my skin.  
  
Dean turned back to me, chewing on the inside of his lips as he stared at me.  
  
“If you’re thinking about kissing me again,” I warned, “it’d better be a helluva lot longer this time ‘round.”  
  
His lips captured mine in a moment that seemed to stretch for infinity. This time, I kissed back, gripping his jacket tight, pressing myself to his body. Not that I needed to. He held me at the waist, keeping me close. His other hand carded my hair and stroked my cheek as his mouth moved against mine. Soon, it became hard to breathe, and not just because I was starting to realize he finally loved me back.  
  
“I love you,” he murmured, the breath of his words tumbling over my lips, nearly knocking me down with their quiet fervor.  
  
“I know,” I teased, leaning in for another smooch. “Love you too, stupid.”

* * *

  
Chuck beamed to Himself, kicking socked feet from where He sat in heaven. At the kiss, He had thrown up His arms in delight, nearly knocking over His bowl of popcorn.  
  
“Freaking finally!”


End file.
